I think that Dr. Oz has been watching too much Honey Boo Boo, Reader. While I was packing for my New York work trip last weekend I had the telly on and caught an episode of Oz. Luckily this time he wasn’t harking any expensive stupid diet pills, which catches me at my weak spot, also known as Miracle-Promise-at-Midnight for the low low price of $150, and I whip out my credit card and purchase a six months supply, which currently resides in my kitchen cabinet.
Nope, it wasn’t expensive. But it was intriguing. The whole story was about getting the most mileage out of your cuppa coffee in the morning, to avoid the slumps that come throughout the day. And the way you avoid that, Reader, is by putting a big ol’ hunka butter in your cuppa morning coffee, avoiding the middle-man, also known as Bagel or Piece of Toast. So see how it’s really saving you calories right there? Dr. Oz is a genius. So is Honey Boo Boo.
Everything’s better with Mo’ Butter.
I’ve been thinking about the whole add-butter-to-your-coffee thing since I saw it and decided today was the day to put it to the test. For YOU, Reader, so I could report my findings and you could learn. Because I’m like a scientist. And a teacher. And like a sweary Mother Theresa, constantly giving back to The People.
I brewed up a fine cuppa Maxwell House in the Keurig this a.m. and threw in a pat o’ butter.
It looked like this.
It looks so much better on a bagel.
But then I stirred it all up and it looked like this:
And even that didn’t make it look better, but I tested it anyway, because I’m very daring with what I’ll put in my mouth. I’m not sure if that’s a good trait. But that’s another thing I do for you Reader.
The verdict? Well, it wasn’t horrifying, because Mo’ Butter, Mo’ Better. Mixed with the nutty coffee, it sort of tasted like a cuppa buttered toast.
I did end up adding a splash of vanilla creamer to it, because I didn’t enjoy the oil slicky look first thing in the morning.
The bad news is, I’m not able to report on the long-lasting effects until tomorrow. So you’ll have to wait with bated breath, Reader, to find out if I had increased va-va-voom all day, or if my 2:00 p.m. nap time came anyway.
Nominate me for Sainthood, Reader. The Pope needs to know about me.